Nothing To Live For
by Pappis
Summary: Dean Winchester used to be many things, but after his brothers death and five years of slavery, he was none of them.
1. Prologue

**W**arnings: Slavery, mentions of torture, d/s and objectification.

**A**uthor's note: So, um, yeah… Something little different after In This Life Or the Next… I just had to get this out of my system, ok? *hides* You have been warned.

* * *

**Prologue**

Dean Winchester used to be happy.

He lived on his own at Lawrence, Kansas. He had a little apartment of his own and he worked at a garage and drove a '67 Chevy Impala, which was a great joy of his life. He was quite happy man. He had little problems and life was rather easy at most. It was good enough for him as he couldn't even dare to ask more.

That was before his brother, Sam, died. Before when he still had something to live for.

They said it was a brain tumor. There was nothing to be done, and Sam had only one week left live.

Dean tried everything. He tried to speak to doctors, said there was something they could do, he even tried faith healers.

But there was nothing.

Week later Sam died, Dean next to his bed.

If Sam only had known, that Dean had died with him.

* * *

Dean Winchester used to be alive.

Then his brother had died and so he had died too.

But he was still breathing and moving. He was still there, while Sam wasn't.

He had lost his family, and in his book it was the same as having nothing. He lost his will to live, but as much as he wanted to kill himself, he didn't. That's not what his brother would've wanted, so he kept going. Kept living as it made him completely numb.

Dean didn't even realize when a year had passed after Sam's death. He gave a little notice to anything that happened around him. It was fine, because no one gave rat's ass about him. Even he didn't.

One night, when he was coming home from a bar, he was attacked.

He was drugged and showed to a truck. Dean didn't even try to resist.

He woke up in a huge building, which he recognized to be a slave facility. He immediately knew what was going to happen to him, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

His physical health was checked, a code was tattooed to his chest, above his heart and he was collared. He was officially given a slave's status and he was going to be sold as a one. Most likely he was going to die as one too. He was no longer a human being.

Dean wondered when he had last been a one.

Other slaves tried to talk to him, tell horrible things about what was going to happen to him. Dean was too pretty, he wouldn't be used for house chores or anything like that, oh no. That'd be waste. He had full lips, bright green eyes; he was perfect in so many ways… Can you imagine what it would feel like when I fucked his face? What my come would like on that pretty face of his? Oh, the lucky bastard who gets to try… I almost envy him.

Dean just stared the dirty wall ignoring them.

He knew what they said was probably true.

He had nothing to lose, nothing to live for.

Might as well go for it.

* * *

Dean Winchester used to be a free man.

Then his freedom was taken away from him.

It could have been tragic and horrific event, if he had even given a fuck about it.

He didn't. Even when he was sold, he didn't care when people checked his teeth, touched his half-naked body and told how well-behaved slave he was. Not to him, of course. Some even wanted to check how tight he was. It was unpleasant, but if Dean as much as left a sound, he was slapped, so he choose to stay silent.

He didn't look who bought him, and the next thing he realized was that he was taken away.

His first owner was a man named Alistair.

The first day he made very clear how he planned to use his new slave and what kind of master he was.

Dean's room, or to be more accurate, his cage was cold, small and dark, right next to Alistair's own room. Alistair said it was a place for his pets and their 'toys'. Dean would soon become very familiar with those as for now he was too afraid even to try naming them.

Alistair started Dean's training immediately, and chained him to a wooden table.

It didn't take long before Dean was writhing in pain and gasping air. His flesh was turning blue from places where Alistair had hit him, and red where he was being tied up. He was bleeding from several places as Alistair enjoyed using whips and knives.

And Alistair was just getting started.

* * *

Dean Winchester used to have mind of his own.

It was tortured away from him and, even if Alistair made sure he didn't leave any visible scars, some did never fade.

It took three months for Alistair to break Dean's will completely, and only a month to get bored of him.

When he was asked why he was even willing to sell such an obedient and well-behaving slave, he only answered he liked challenge, and as Dean provided him none, he might as well sell him.

In next auction Dean was advertised as 'well-trained sex slave, with a skillful mouth and a needy hole.' His price went incredibly high and in the end he was bought by a man called Michael.

Michael took Dean 'skills' to good use, heck, he even shared them with his friends. Showed Dean off like a new cock sucking car. At least Michael didn't abuse Dean like Alistair had, but Dean still woke up in the middle of the night feeling sore after day's...Activities.

And all he could feel was gratitude.

_Master Michael is so good to me. He takes better care of me than Alistair. He is so kind and gentle. _

_Master is a good man, I'm so glad I can be useful to him._

All this, after he had been fucked sideways, at least by five different men, meanwhile his ass and face was dripping off their come.

Alistair had trained him well, since Dean didn't complain not even once.

And what an obedient slut he was…

Still it didn't matter how much Dean pleased Michael, he was still sold after a year.

Dean didn't understand what he did wrong, why master wasn't pleased with him anymore, why was he being sold again.

His mind was filled with confusion and determination to be better as he was brought to an auction again.

* * *

Dean Winchester used to be many things.

He used to be a son, a big brother, a mechanic, a lover, he used to be Dean.

As months went by, so did the bits of his personality. Those necessary parts which made him Dean. There was so little left anyway, and soon the person Dean withered away. What was left…Well, there was practically nothing left. He lived, he breathed, he moved and offered his body for others to use, but his soul was dead. Had been a long time.

Dean's owners changed often. He was usually kept about a half a year, before he was sold again. Every time he asked himself, wasn't he good enough. Why would they sell him, he did his best, why didn't it please them?

He didn't understand why he wasn't wanted.

Everyone left him. His parents did, and so did his brother. Now his owners left him, one by one.

Dean didn't even realize when his soul started to yearn again.

_Please_, went a silent plea somewhere inside his head.

_Need me. _


	2. Chapter 1

**W**arnings: Slavery, mentions of d/s and objectification.

**A**uthor's note: I actually wrote more of this... Oh gawd. Feel free to write a review, they're much appreciated.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Dean Winchester used to be an empty shell.

He indeed was broken, almost beyond reparation, but something had changed.

He ached. He ached to be needed. He wanted someone to be happy just that he was alive. He wanted to bring someone joy just by existing.

If only he had been able to recognize that feeling. If only hadn't he been too broken to notice.

In the end, he just ached without knowing how to get rid of the feeling he was missing something, so he tried even more, tried to be even better slave.

Few weeks later he was in an auction again.

The man, who bought him, was his 10th owner. Dean swore to himself, he was going to be good slave to this man. He would keep him, even when Dean couldn't please him with his body anymore. Dean would find other ways to be useful to him. He could fix his car or clean his house. He could cook for him, do his laundry…There were so many things he could do to please him.

The man took Dean to his home, and along the way they bought him new clean clothes. Dean's old ones were practically just tattered jeans, which were given him at the auction. His owners kept him rarely clothed anyway. Fabric of the t-shirt felt odd against his skin after so long time. Comfortable, but odd.

The master didn't say a word as he drove, which left Dean time to wonder how he should thank his master for these new clothes. He could show how good he was right at the beginning, but he shouldn't rush. He would wait at his master's orders like an obedient slave should.

When they reached the master's home Dean was exited like a puppy at the door of his new home. He'd do his best; the master wouldn't regret buying him. The master let Dean go inside first and he was surprised. It was a little apartment, room only for two persons at most. It was simple and held only the most necessary furniture's, a bed, a kitchen table, two chairs, a sofa, a desk and a bookshelf.

Nothing indicated that the man living there could buy a sex slave. Dean looked at his new master now more carefully.

He was shorter than him and was dressed to a black suit and a blue neck tie. Over it he wore a trench coat too big for his shoulders. His hair was dark, unruly mess and his eyes blue and sharp. The most honest Dean had seen since... He couldn't even remember anymore. Over all, the master was a pleasant one to look at, but he looked like the last person on Earth to buy a slave.

Dean quickly hurried to help the master with his coat, but the man denied his help. Dean thought he had done something wrong already, and he went to his knees and bowed just like his last master had wanted him to.

The master looked almost horrified and he quickly rushed to pull Dean back to his feet.

"You don't need to do that anymore," the master said and his voice was grave and low. Dean nodded. So no bowing in here, he noted to himself and tried to remember not to do that again here. The master let go off Dean and sighed. It was hard to tell if it was disappointed or relieved sigh, and Dean readied himself for the worst.

"Please, come to the kitchen," the master said and gestured Dean to once again go before him. "There's something we must discuss." He followed Dean and started to make tea.

"Master, please, let me-" Dean started, but the man cut him off.

"Do you like your tea with milk or sugar?"

Dean found himself dumbfounded.

"…However master wants it," Dean answered unsurely. This wasn't how a master was supposed to act. The man stared at him for a moment before he decided, sugar it is. Soon there was two steaming cups on the table.

The master gestured Dean to have a seat and feeling uneasy he did. It had been a long time since he had been last allowed to sit on a normal chair with his master. Slaves usually sat on the floor, or on their master's lap, if they allowed so. Dean was too big for the latter, so floor it usually was.

Dean followed when the master took a long sip of his tea, being too afraid to touch his own cup. He wasn't given permission, and he thought the master was testing him. Whatever it was, he wasn't going to disappoint him.

Finally the master put his mug down, and raised his gaze to Dean. He took a long look, like he was now seeing Dean the first time.

"What is your name?" the man asked and Dean looked him questioningly. Hadn't the master looked it from Dean's papers he was given, when he purchased Dean? Or was this some kind of game? Some of Dean's previous owners had enjoyed roleplaying so maybe this was something like that.

"Dean. Dean Winchester, master," Dean answered, words feeling unfamiliar on his tongue. He hadn't used those words for a long time, but then again, his masters rarely allowed him to speak anymore, not even to tell his name. Well, he was allowed to use few words in certain occasions, which were "yes, master", "please, master", "more, master", "harder, master" and so on.

The man smiled kindly and Dean felt that joyful warmness of success. It was a good feeling, though he was completely out of map with the master. He was hard, almost impossible read, and he didn't treat Dean like a slave. Not like he was someone's possession. Not like Dean's only purpose was to serve him. Maybe it was some kind kink of his, but Dean would figure it out.

"My name is Castiel," the master said. "It's most pleasant to meet you, Dean."

"…As well, master."

"You don't need to call me like that, Dean. I told you my name. I wish you to use it," Castiel noted, but it didn't sound like an order.

"Of course, master Castiel," Dean replied, because he wouldn't call his master by his first name only. Castiel raised his eyebrows to that, but decided to let it go this time.

"Tell me, Dean, how many owners have you had so far," Castiel asked.

"Nine, master Castiel."

"And I'm your tenth?"

"Yes, master Castiel."

"I take it they've mainly used you for sexual favors."

"Yes, master Castiel."

"And you probably think that's why I bought you too."

"Of course. I am your slave, and I'm yours to use for your pleasure."

Castiel sighed, and Dean sensed he had said something wrong. He heard Castiel mutter something like 'this is going to be difficult,' before turning to look Dean again. Was he to be trained again?

"No, Dean… I didn't buy you so I…Could use you for my own sexual pleasure. I don't expect that from you."

Dean looked confused. If he wasn't going to use his slave, then-

"You can live here with me," Castiel said interrupting Dean's thoughts. "You may sleep on the bed, and you may use the kitchen and the facilities however you please. You don't have to ask my permission to speak or to do anything else, and if you want to know something, please ask. Tomorrow I'm taking you to the registrar and we are changing your status from slave to civilian."

"What?" Dean stuttered forgetting to address Castiel as a master. Castiel was going to free Dean? But Dean had done nothing for him yet. He hadn't even had a chance to show Castiel how good slave he was, and now he was getting released?

"You don't deserve to be property, Dean," Castiel said gravely. "I'm giving you your freedom, because you deserve it. Everyone deserves to be free, even you."

_No, master, no_, Dean thought horridly. He didn't want his freedom, he didn't want his life back, and he didn't want to care about himself anymore. It had been too much pain back then, and it had been relief to be able to let it go. His owners didn't care about his past, so why should him? All that mattered was master's happiness. If master was happy, so was Dean. End of the story. Master Castiel was wrong; Dean didn't deserve to be free. He had had his chance with free will and he had failed. He had had his chance with life.

Dean swallowed, and it hurt. Like someone was choking him.

"If you say so, master Castiel," Dean said, and somehow he was able to hide his voice's trembling.

Castiel smiled so gently and pitying, and he slowly rolled his right sleeve to reveal a code similar to Dean's. The biggest difference was that there was a thick line tattooed over it.

"I mean it, Dean," he said as Dean's eyes widened in surprise when he realized it:_ Master Castiel had been a slave too_. He had been a slave but at some point, his master had freed him.

"You don't need to call me 'master', Dean," Castiel said and carefully hid the code tattoo again. "We are rather similar, you and I. There's no need for titles or orders anymore." Castiel huffed sadly. "You probably cannot even understand the meaning of that anymore, can you?"

"…I can try to understand, if that's what my mas-" Dean almost bit his tongue under Castiel's sharp gaze, "if that's what Castiel wants."

Dean had a feeling that Castiel would've laughed, if the situation hadn't been what it was. Instead he just stared Dean, and tried to assure himself of something. Finally he rubbed his temples, and stood up to pour long cooled off tea to the sink. Dean hadn't even touched his own cup, and only now he realized he had failed. It wasn't to test his obedience; Castiel had just offered him some tea, end of the story.

"It's getting late," Castiel stated matter-of-factly. "I made the bed for you. I'm sleeping on the sofa."

Dean wanted to say something about how it's not appropriate for slave to sleep on the bed, when the master is sleeping somewhere else, but he figured Castiel wouldn't like that.

"Yes, Castiel," he said instead, and moved to the bed. It looked comfortable. One of his masters had allowed him to stay in the bed after sex, but it was different kind of comfortable. Dean tried the sheets with his fingers. They weren't any fine material, but felt soft and oddly warm. Dean turned to look Castiel to ask if the man wanted him to sleep his clothes on or not, but the man was at the front door a phone in his hand.

"I have to make a call. I'll return shortly," Castiel said and disappeared to the hallway.

Dean decided to leave his underwear on just in case, before he slipped in to the bed.

* * *

Castiel went outside before he chose a number and dialed a call. He didn't want Dean to hear whom he was calling to. He guessed the man wasn't ready for it yet, but he hoped that would happen soon.

He put the phone to his ear, and soon he heard a click of someone picking the phone.

"Hello, it's me," he greeted and the voice from the other end sounded delighted.

"Yes, I've been doing well, thank you."

"No, I didn't call just for that. I have news."

"I found him."

"Yes, it really is him. There's no mistake about it and I wouldn't lie about this."

"He's healthy, but… I'm not sure if you should see him just yet."

"Because he's broken. He's not the same as he used to be. He… He was a slave for five years. He was horrified when I told I'm going to free him. He probably thought I was going to abandon him."

"Yes. You're right… Maybe that's for the best. I'll take care of him, before he can take care of himself again."

"Thank you for everything."

"I'll call you again soon, Bobby."

Castiel ended the call and put the phone back to his pocket.

He thought about Dean, and wondered how hard this was going to be. He practically had promised to teach free will to a mentally broken slave. _Like teaching poetry to the fish, _Castiel had once said to Bobby and the old man had just grinned and said, _Well, you learned._

Old habits die hard, and according to the sales man, they'd have to get brutal to get Dean rid of those. An obedient, eager and never questioning slave, who was also strong and beautiful. A perfect slave. A perfect tool for people's twisted perversions. His owners had broken him so many ways, Castiel doubted if it was even possible to fix Dean anymore.

He remembered how Dean had looked at him. So honest, so eager, he truly didn't seem want anything else, than to bring joy to Castiel, even if it meant only meant offering his body. He didn't even seem consider anything else. He actually wanted Castiel to take and claim him, and Castiel felt dirty only thinking about that.

He didn't buy Dean to use him, when the man had lost a sight of something better. He would fix Dean, just like he had been fixed. It was possible, and it was going to happen. He would make sure of that.

Feeling determined, Castiel returned back to inside.


	3. Chapter 2

**A**uthor's note: Yep, this chapter didn't took awhile at all. I'm sorry, I try to be more faster in the future D:

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Dean couldn't sleep.

He knew Castiel had told him to rest, but there just had happened too much. The bed really was comfortable and warm (and all his, for Dean's great disappointment), but just too much in his mind and… in some other place. Like day's revelations weren't enough to confuse him, and then he had to get a really painful erection to disturb him even more. But what could he say? Out of his masters, Castiel was one of the most attractive, and Dean would love to be a good slave to him.

But Castiel didn't want him. Castiel wanted to free him, because he thought everyone deserved to be free. Dean usually agreed with everything his master said, but about this he just couldn't. He remembered the time when he had been free, when he had lived on his own, occasionally hanged out with Sam, or with a chick or two, whose name he didn't remember anymore at the following morning. It had been nice, and he had enjoyed it. To be able to do things you wanted, whenever you wanted, and where ever you wanted.

But then the world decided, it had given too much for him, and took it all away. Dean completely failed to protect, those he held dear, and he would never forgive that to himself.

The first year without Sam… Dean didn't even remember it anymore. It was all blur, where you could not tell one day from another. It was all nightmares, alcohol, crappy TV-shows and even crappier sex. For Sam, Dean tried to stay alive, but sometimes it was just too much, and more than once Dean caught himself considering jumping of the roof.

Becoming slave was the best thing to happen to him after all that. Like someone lifted it all away, and told him not to burden himself with those thoughts anymore. Dean let it all go and he had never felt lighter in his entire life. He didn't have to take care of himself anymore, he was freed from personal burdens and as long as his owner was happy, he could be too.

Now he was afraid. Afraid, that when he'd got his freedom back, it all would return to him. Once again he'd be all alone, feeling like all of the world's problems and misery were on his shoulders. This time Dean probably couldn't take it. He'd either commit a suicide or give himself to slave traders using that ah, so glorious free will, everyone's talking about.

_No._ Dean would not let Castiel get rid of him. He'd convince him that, Dean was better off as his slave. He'd have to break some orders Castiel gave, but Dean was ready and really, _really_ desperate to do anything to have Castiel keep him.

Castiel had come back inside a few minutes ago. Dean had listened, how the man had quietly changed to his pajamas, and slipped to the sofa. He had heard how Castiel's breathing had eventually calmed as the man fell asleep. He waited another ten minutes, before he got out of the bed, and sneaked across the room to Castiel.

Carefully he lifted Castiel's blanket, trying not to wake him up. The man shifted when the warm cover was removed, but other than that, he didn't show any signs of stirring. Apparently Castiel was a heavy sleeper. Pleased with that Dean proceeded with his task, and climbed to the bed with Castiel, throwing his other leg around the sleeping man, so he was sitting legs spread open on Castiel's legs.

The man was all angles, bones and muscle, Dean noticed when he slowly shifted to a better position, and put his palms gently on Castiel's hip bones. Slowly he moved his fingers lower, and tugged Castiel's pants down with the same movement. The man let out a sleepy sound, and frowned in his sleep, but he relaxed soon enough for Dean to continue.

Dean himself was still fully erected, but he had gotten used to a feeling already. He often wasn't allowed to touch himself without permission, and now that he wasn't given a one, he strictly kept his hands away even though it screamed for attention. Tonight was more about Castiel anyway, and Dean guessed the man would be pleased, if he saw what kind of reaction he awakened in Dean.

With a last tug Castiel's soft cock was revealed under his pajamas. Dean took a second to admire it, before leaning and taking it gently inside his mouth.

* * *

Castiel needed good ten seconds, after slowly waking up to realize what had awakened him. Even then his thoughts were interrupted by a wave of pleasure and a warm feeling around his goodies, and the only thing he could do was groan.

He forced his eyes open, and all he saw was Dean's head moving up and down on his cock, and damn it all, if it wasn't sexy as hell. As expected, Dean really knew the tricks, and Castiel hated himself for not waking up earlier. He could've stopped Dean, before his traitorous body was all flustered, erect and really graving for it.

"…Dean," Castiel rasped, and put his palm on Dean's head and tried to push him away, but then Dean fucking deep throated him, and Castiel couldn't help himself. He moaned in pleasure when Dean swallowed him whole.

"Dean, please…!" Castiel tried, but it had quickly become too difficult to form full sentences. What he was trying to say came out totally wrong, when he couldn't add 'stop' to the end, and instead of stopping, it just encouraged Dean, and soon Castiel came to his mouth with a loud moan. In his bliss he felt, how Dean swallowed it all, and licked his cock clean.

Then the pleasure faded away, and he buried his face to his arms. He felt so ashamed. Of course this had to happen, right after he swore, he wouldn't touch Dean this way.

Well, practically he didn't, but did it really matter in the end?

Castiel sighed, but it might as well been a sob. He thought this might happen, but not this soon.

He sensed Dean to turn his gaze to him. Any moment now he would hear Dean ask, "Did you like it, master?" or tell how much he needed Castiel to fuck him in the ass right now, because it was Castiel, and all Dean wanted, was to bring pleasure to him.

"Please, don't send me away, Castiel," he heard Dean say, and his eyes snapped wide open.

"What?" Castiel asked his voice weak and full of unbelief. For a second he thought there wasn't an adult sized sex slave on his lap, because how Dean looked at him… He looked more like a desperate child. A child, who was afraid, that his parents don't want him anymore, and are going to abandon him.

"I made you feel good, right? I can make you feel even better, just please give me chance to prove myself. Castiel, please, don't send me away," Dean said again, and it started to sound even more and more like desperate begging. Castiel already could have his heart ripped in half because of it, but then Dean continued.

"I don't want to be free, I want to be yours. I'm a good slave. I'll promise I'll be useful to you, I'll do everything you want, and even more, just please-"

"Are you that afraid of freedom?" Castiel asked quietly, interrupting Dean's pleas. He couldn't listen that anymore. It hurt even more, when he remembered had been quite the same back then.

Dean swallowed visibly. It was obvious he was afraid of being freed, horrified even.

"That you would even beg, for not to having it back." Castiel thought it was to best not to mention the blowjob. Dean might even do it again, if he thought everything depended on that.

"…Please, keep me…" Dean whispered again and lowered his head on Castiel's lap like he was a dog. Castiel strangled the urge to push his fingers through the man's soft hair. He wanted to give comfort to the man so badly it ached him too.

"I'm not going to abandon you, Dean…" Castiel said quietly and finally gave in to the urge. Dean leaned eagerly to the touch, and Castiel felt something twist inside him. He wasn't sure whether he liked the feeling, or not, but at least Dean seemed somewhat pleased.

"Having human rights and your freedom doesn't necessarily mean you have to be alone, you know?"

Dean turned to look Castiel. "I do…" he whispered, but it was obvious he said so only because he thought it was the answer Castiel wanted. Castiel wanted to say something about this, but he was simply too tired and spent to talk about things anymore. He just wanted his sleep.

Castiel patted Dean's head once and was about to say it was time to get some shut eye, when he noticed Dean's sporting erection.

"Ah… Dean?" Castiel said and looked another direction, "You should take care of that, before you go back to sleep." Dean looked down and it seemed like he had completely forgotten it.

"In the facilities!" Castiel hurried to add, when Dean was bluntly putting his hand to his underwear. Obediently he got up and went to the bathroom, leaving in all ways exhausted Castiel behind. The man sighed. This was going to be much more difficult than he thought. Not that it was ever going to be easy, he thought, and went back to sleep.

* * *

"What do you mean you can't free him?" Castiel asked as Dean looked silently pleased with the information.

Castiel had brought him to the registrar the following day. Dean hadn't shown any signs of the last night's discomfort anymore, but then again wasn't that how he was trained for? He must've been so desperate last night; he couldn't even think straight, even less pull his shit together and act like a proper slave. Castiel hated the fact, that he was totally using his master's status, when asked Dean to dress up and follow him. He had decided that they'd walk to the place, that way he could have time to speak with Dean. Not anything important, just speak and to get to know each other's better. Dean's answers were short and didn't practically answer to anything, which led to that the rest of the walk went in silence.

"You're not mad about me for this, aren't you?" Castiel had asked before entering the registrar.

"You're my master," Dean had answered, "and if you think it's for the best, then it is."

"That's not what I asked, Dean," Castiel had replied. "I know you prefer being a slave now, when you don't remember, what it was like to have something better. I just hope that…" Castiel had fallen silent. Dean's eyes had looked angry and accusing, asking 'what's wrong with being a slave?', and Castiel felt like hitting himself. Of course Dean would be mad at him, and of course he wouldn't actually show it.

They had gotten inside, Castiel had filled few forms, and meanwhile Dean had been put through a psychological test, which had led to this situation.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Singer, but that's the law," the clerk replied and handed the results of Dean's test to Castiel. "Every slave is to be tested before they are freed, to make sure that there are no sudden raises in the amount of homeless and whores at the streets. It is important, that the freed slave is able to take care of him- or herself."

Castiel pulled his fingers into a fist. He should've remembered that things weren't so easy anymore. Now government actually cared what happened to slaves, after they were freed. Only five years ago they couldn't have cared less, which was the reason, the freed slaves were like pet bunnies out in the wild. Helpless, and most likely to die or get captured again before next summer.

He looked the paper the clerk handed to him.

"He's not functioning properly to take care of himself alone, sir. If you wish to free him later, he needs to attend therapy first," she continued and looked up some new forms from her desk. "Do you wish to send him to therapy?"

Castiel turned to look Dean, who did his best to look neutral, humble and obedient. Therapy was expensive and after buying Dean, Castiel didn't have such money. And now that he needed to take care of both of them, every penny was needed. He sighed.

"…Some other time," he muttered to the clerk and gestured Dean, that they'd leave. When they had gotten out of the registrar, Castiel felt like punching something for his stupidity. Preferably himself.

"I should have remembered that they changed the law…" he muttered angrily to himself and glanced Dean, expecting the man would be smiling victoriously. He still had his poker face on.

"Aren't you happy about his?" Castiel asked and vaguely gestured Dean. "You're still a slave. And you can't be freed before…" he inhaled and his frustration was overwhelming, "Before you practically want so."

Dean smiled gently. He knew Castiel didn't want to hear his honest answer. He was fucking thrilled, though he hated that Castiel felt annoyed because of him. But now he had a chance. A chance to prove himself to Castiel, a chance to make the man happy. He wouldn't say that aloud though, because Castiel would get mad.

He didn't answer and Castiel didn't ask for more.

"Come one, let's go back home," he said silently and Dean followed him.


End file.
